


Ob Du Deine Liebe Mir Gibst

by coloursflyaway



Series: Hartwin Week [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Classical Music, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry plays the same song every time Eggsy visits, but Eggsy doesn't get the meaning at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ob Du Deine Liebe Mir Gibst

**Author's Note:**

> For Hartwin Week - Day Two: Based On A Song
> 
> You can find the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8XmH3R6Q6U), and the second one [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXqvfBZPpGw).

“Seriously, ‘Arry, do ya only own one single vinyl or what?”, Eggsy asks when he sits down on the sofa in the older man’s living room, a glass of wine in his hand. “You must’ve been playing this for the last, I dunno, two months. Aren’t ya getting’ tired of it?”  
“I’ll have you know that this is not a vinyl, but a playlist, because even if I am old, I am very much able to go with the times, thank you very much.” Harry sits down next to him, looking mostly fondly exasperated and also a little bit… different. A little bit like he is waiting for something. “And I do in fact have more than one of those. But this one just feels…appropriate.”  
“How can it be appropriate? It’s _German_.”

The words make Harry stop mid-motion, the glass of wine he is holding hovering just below his mouth. “Are you saying that you do not understand what he is singing?”  
“Nah. I mean, I think he’s singin’ to some chick, but that’s about it.  
“Oh.” Harry looks… strange, disappointed and yet like he just understood something he had been wondering for a long time, and something that Eggsy must be misreading as hopeful, because that is no emotion the other can possibly be feeling right now. “Well that… I thought you were taking lessons? The last time I checked, it was mandatory for a Kingsman agent to be fluent in Arabic, French, German, Spanish and Mandarin.”  
“Well… yeah. But mandatory lessons don’t mean that I actually learn anythin’.” Eggsy has the courtesy of looking a little sheepish.

“And here I was, thinking that Fräulein Sperling was an excellent teacher.”  
He still cannot pinpoint Harry’s expression and it’s disconcerting, because it took ages to learn how to read the other man, and Eggsy would hate to lose that talent, more than anything. His eyes stay on Harry’s face for a little too long before he looks away, takes a sip of wine instead, even if looking away from the other man is as hard as always.  
“That’s not it, she’s sound. Real good, ‘s just that I don’t care at all about German.” Eggsy shrugs, fiddles a bit with his own wine glass, before he setting it down to avoid breaking it accidentally. “Makes everythin’ sound like you’re tryin’ to scream at someone without raisin’ ya voice.”  
“Ah.” Finally, Eggsy can tell again what Harry is feeling – he disapproves. “How wrong you are there, Eggsy. Just listen, do you think he sounds like he is trying to shout?”

And so Eggsy listens. The singer’s voice sounds like velvet feels, soft and yet deep, comforting, the unfamiliar words flowing from his lips with grace, never stopping, just ever changing. It’s a little like red wine, tart but still rich, longing and hopeful.  
“…no”, he admits, and Harry smiles like he is proud of him. It warms Eggsy from the inside out, makes him tingle from his scalp to his fingertips, to his toes, makes him smile in return. “But what is ‘e singin’ anyway?”

There is a pause, and Eggsy watches Harry’s expression change to something unreadable again, guarded but excited, hopeful and yet almost scared.  
“Heute Nacht“, Harry starts, his consonants clipped and sharp all of a sudden, his vowels ringing clear through the air. He doesn’t sound like the singer, doesn’t have his smooth sweetness, but he doesn’t sound like angry either, like he was shouting. He sounds a bit forlorn, a bit lost.“Oder nie, sollst du mir sagen nur das Eine: Ob du mich liebst.“  
It makes no sense at all, so Eggsy stays quiet, waits for the explanation, which comes just a few moments later, delivered in a voice Eggsy has never heard before, soft and warm and sad.  
“Tonight or never, you should tell me just one thing”, Harry translates, every word uttered with care, with precision. “If you love me.”

And the world stops.

It shouldn’t mean so much, because it’s just the words to a song, but Harry has played it every time he came over for months, has selected it especially for times like this, has deemed it _appropriate_ … It takes what feels like an hour until Eggsy’s brain starts working again, supplies him with words and grammar and a voice to let them reach the air.  
By now, Harry’s expression has melted into another one again, has lost its hope, but not its gentleness; it is accompanied with the most painful sense of resignation now.  
“…and ya thought that was the right thing to listen to. While we’re gettin’ drunk on too expensive wine.”  
“Yes.” Harry’s voice is still soft, but flat, like he knows exactly what he will be told, and knows that it won’t be what he is wishing for. A second passes, than another and then Harry starts to get up, Eggsy finding the strength to move his limbs again just in time to stop the other by wrapping a hand around his wrist. He doesn’t pull, but it still makes Harry freeze, and Eggsy thinks he knows why. Because he didn’t expect to be touched by Eggsy, maybe not ever again.

“Can’t I answer?”, Eggsy asks, aware that his voice is hoarse and breathless; everything has changed within a second, and he doesn’t think he’s even able to comprehend even half of it, but God, he needs to tell Harry this.  
The other turns around to face him, his expression still calm in the worst kind of ways, but his eyes are lit up again, not bright but there’s a spark of hope hidden in them once more.  
So Eggsy takes a deep, deep breath and says, “Yeah. The answer is yes, yes, I do, you pretentious dork. Oh God, Harry, of course I do.”

Watching Harry understand what he is saying is like watching the sun rise –just a few rays of light at first, which somehow cut through the night and then suddenly, it’s day and there is light everywhere and Harry is looking at him like he has hung the stars and the moon and the sun at once.  
“You do?”, he asks, but it doesn’t sound like he really needs the answer anymore; Eggsy gives it anyway.  
“Yes. Yes, Harry, since, I don’t know, it feels like forever.”

Eggsy is laughing, carefree and overwhelmed by happiness, curls his fingers a little more around Harry’s wrist. The other gets the hint and falls back onto the couch, moves a little closer, the same happiness Eggsy feels mirrored in his eyes.  
“Oh, Eggsy”, he mutters, and Eggsy’s heart flutters at the tone he uses to say his name – it’s warm and impossibly fond, like a term of endearment, as if it was Harry’s favourite word.  
They stay silent for a few moments, just watching each other, then the song changes.

It’s more upbeat now, and Eggsy has heard it what feels like a hundred times before, but now it makes Harry chuckle, look away for a second.  
“What?”, he asks, but Harry just shakes his head.  
_Ich bat nur einen Kuss, weil ich sonst weinen muss_ , the singer sings, and Harry changes their position so he can touch a hand to Eggsy’s face.  
“Can I kiss you?”, he asks, and Eggsy’s heart stops because it’s too heavy, too full of love to continue beating.  
“Yeah”, he responds, and it’s all Harry needs to do kiss him; Eggsy whispers the rest of his answer against his lips, “Anythin’ you want.”

**Author's Note:**

>  _Ich bat nur einen Kuss, weil ich sonst weinen muss_ means _I only asked for a kiss, because I would have to start crying otherwise_ , if anyone is wondering!
> 
> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


End file.
